


Eat This.

by Das_macht_spass



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Crack, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Food Kink, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Goro Akechi is a little shit, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Valentine's Day, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_macht_spass/pseuds/Das_macht_spass
Summary: Akira gives Akechi a unique present for Valentine's day!He may have bit off more than he can chew.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	1. Indulging Goro's sweet-tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Akechi never saw it coming.

“Wake up, sleepy-head. I’ve got something special, all for you.”

Slowly, Goro’s eyes peeked open, as he sat up and yawned. “Good morning, love. What are you hiding behind your back?” He asked, eyes still adjusting to the light.

“Your Valentine’s gift, honey.” Akira said, eyes shimmering with a glint that made Goro just a bit wary.

Once Akira revealed it though, all wariness faded and a genuine smile beamed across the sleepy brunette’s face.

There resting in Akira’s hands was a creamy-looking cake, shaped like a heart. Its icing nearly glowed, a sparkly delectable red. It looked so moist that Goro could just feel it melting against his tongue.

And it was quite large too. It was thicker than most textbooks.

Goro’s mouth began to water. He hadn’t eaten the other day and waking up to a homemade dessert from his love was a welcome sight indeed.

“Y-you shouldn’t have, Akira.” Goro stuttered, blushing a bit. He reached an eager finger towards it, wanting to nab a bit of the icing.

“Uh-uh. You have to read the card first.” Akira grinned, handing his sleepy lover a small piece of card-stock.

Akechi nodded, feeling a bit silly for forgetting his manners. With one hand, he nudged it open and there in pretty calligraphy it read:

_’Who has the prettiest, softest, flowing hair, and eyes that rival the beauty of Mount Fuji?’_

Akechi had to stop and giggle a bit. “Okay, love. That’s a bit sappy.”

Akira just motioned for him to keep going, a devious smirk plastered on his face. Goro didn't notice it though, he was too drawn in by the treat in front of him.

He kept reading corny line after corny line.

_’Who has managed to steal the heart of Tokyo's greatest outlaw?’_

Akechi scoffed. Of course his boyfriend had to stroke his ego a little bit. Akechi started to skim, there were too many lines and his stomach was rumbling.

_’Who has intelligence that stands leagues above the most renowned scholars?’_

And this was obviously when his love resorted to boring flattery. Goro held back a groan. 

_’The same person who’s about to take a big, fat cake to the face.’_

“Wait, wha-“

**SPLAT!**

Wet, cold, sloppy and black overtook all of Goro’s senses. He couldn’t hear the impact as something, presumably cream, muffled his ears.

He tried to lift his head out of the mess, but the familiar grip of Akira’s hand in his hair, something he relished in during their make-out sessions, kept him firmly in place. His place apparently being the sticky remnants of his once beautiful cake.

Akira’s hand pushed and gave him a ferocious noogy, smooshing his face further into the white, custardy slop and making Goro let out a rather embarrassing whimper.

He could faintly make out giggling. Airy and high-pitched, it was the tell tale sign that Akira found something really, _really_ hilarious. 

Akira was dead to him. 

Akechi wasn’t sure how long his face had been trapped in the mess, but it felt like a few minutes. 

Finally Akira relented, and let go. 

Goro’s dripping head flew upwards and was promptly greeted by flash after flash.

“For your food-blog, babe.” Akira snorted aiming his cellphone towards him. His eyes were watering from raucous laughter. 

Goro blushed, and if there was one thing good about this, it that there was so much cream and crust covering his face, that Akira likely couldn’t tell how embarrassed he was. 

Goro’s mom had been a fan of western cartoons, and as the former detective pushed clump after clump of crust and muck off of his face, like a windshield wiper, he had to admit he felt like a character from one of those shorts.

Eventually he cleared enough off that his vision was no longer obscured.

It was clear enough that he could see Akira holding another-

Oh for Loki’s sake.

“Open wide, sweet-tooth!” Akira teased as he cocked an arm back.

Akechi didn’t even try to dodge. He just stuck his tongue out, figuring he may as well taste a little bit, and Akira scored another direct hit.

It tasted good for what it was worth. A syrupy sweetness mixed with vanilla. The fluffy consistency would have been a pleasure were it not glazing his hair and coating his face entirely.

It went right over the remnants of the last cake, and Goro's face felt significantly heavier.

This time Akira showed mercy, and didn’t make his boyfriend eat cake for five minutes. 

Akechi wiped his face off and just gave the innocently whistling Akira a peeved stare.

“Okay so my gift was a mess, then?” Akechi grunted after a rather sour start to the day. He glared at the messy sheets and sighed. 

Really, what was his boyfriend thinking with this?

Akira shook his head. The raven felt a little anxious, after all this gift was kind of a bizarre idea. “Nah, love. Your gift's vengeance.”

Goro cocked an eyebrow as Akira leaned close in and licked a bit of cream off the corner of his mouth.

“Get me back. Viciously and ruthlessly. Make me pay two-fold.” Akira whispered, figuring Goro would like the idea. He had always been vindictive after all. So he figured a little competition like this could be a good gift instead of some cliche giant teddy bear or box of candy. 

Akira wasn’t expecting the terrifying, shrill cackle that his love let out.

It was extended, lasting for about thirty seconds, as Goro cocked his head back and basked in it. He actually inhaled deep breaths a few times, just so he could keep it going a while longer.

Akira’s spine started to shiver. He hadn’t heard Goro let out a laugh that diabolical in ages. He stuck a placating hand out, because this was starting to worry him. “Okay, babe, calm down a little?”

Goro just ignored him, slowly quieting down but maintaining a downright devilish sneer. His teeth peered through, and the mouth favored the left curling into a feral, cat-like expression.

Now Akira was mortified, because this was Goro's merciless expression. The one he reserved for when he was about to take pleasure in utterly ruining someone. Akira’s voice plead, cracking and desperate. “G-goro, I was just kidding, honey-“

“Heh, so timid now, love! Shaking and begging like a frightened, forest animal!” Akechi cut him off, eyes taking a lunatic appearance on. “But I don’t want to hear it.”

Akira’s stomach plummeted. His hope replaced by despair.

“You’ve made your bed of nails.”

Goro leaned in close and blew warm and teasing into Akira’s ear turning the barista’s legs to mush. Akira found it an odd combination of horrifying and arousing.

“Don’t toss and turn too much.” Akechi smirked, practically pushing his love out the door, eager to show him what true ‘humiliation’ consisted of.

As Akira landed in the hallway he could only hear two things. 

The click of the lock and Goro shouting, “Have a good day at Leblanc!”

Akira may have made a mistake.


	2. Comeuppance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is a dish best served cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira's bout to get it.

It was slow that Valentine’s day at Leblanc. Akira had no customers to worry about, except the old couple in the corner booth. Still he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting about, paranoid that at any moment his lover could strike.

The door chimed, a quaint little bell and Akira was just able to stop himself from dropping a mug. 

“Wassup, dude. It’s me and Inari.” The blond spoke, waving his hand.

“Indeed.”

Akira sighed as it wasn’t Akechi, come to give him cruel comeuppance, rather it was Yusuke and Ryuji. He gave a hapless grin at seeing his friends. 

“Hey guys. What’re you up to?” Akira asked, as he noticed their hands entwined in one another. 

Huh.

Akira smirked. “You guys on a date?”

Ryuji’s eyes went wide and he yanked his hand away. Or he tried to, Yusuke’s grip was so strong that Ryuji stayed right where he was. 

Yusuke cocked an eyebrow, the hints of a sly smile forming. “Whatever are you doing beloved? I thought you wanted to be more romantic?” He questioned, loud and boisterous. 

Ryuji’s cheeks glew red, as his free hand swatted at the taller boy. “Eff, Inari! That’s so damn embarassin’!”

They were too adorable. Akira had to laugh. 

Ryuji went still, as if remembering something important. “Oh, Inari! Should we give him his gift?”

Gift? Akira perked up, all thought of his job vanishing. His friends were too nice to him.

Yusuke nodded, standing up from his chair. “It would have been rather hard to wrap, so we left it outside.”

Ryuji beckoned for him to follow them outside and Akira did like a lost puppy. 

As he walked into the Tokyo daylight, Yusuke and Ryuji led him to dim alleyway.

Akira saw a sight that made him double-take. 

Goro Akechi, leaning against the side of a building, his expression merciless. His eyes shone with devious delight and his teeth gnashed audibly, feral and rapid. 

Betrayal. Utter betrayal and shock overwhelmed Akira. He glanced at his so-called friends with breath abated. 

“Yusuke! Ryuji! How could you?!”

Ryuji gave an innocent shrug and Yusuke just waved a couple bills through the air. 

“Twenty-thousand yen, Akira! Do you have any earthly idea how many art supplies that can buy?!”

Ryuji gave him a light slap on the cheek and Yusuke whimpered. “Uh-uh, dude! You can use what’s left over after our date.”

“I apologize, I got rather carried away.” Yusuke stammered, as Ryuji stood on his tippy toes and flicked him on the forehead. Yusuke, now blushing, glanced back with an apologetic expression. “Good luck with… him, Akira.”

Ryuji threw a glance too and shuddered, as Akechi looked downright terrifying. 

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll survive. See ya later, man.”

Akira was paralyzed. He still couldn’t bring himself to talk or run and he was running out of time. His boyfriend was sauntering over, wearing an innocent child-like expression. Still Akira shivered because if there was one thing Goro was good at, it was playing an act. 

His panicking ceased as Goro yanked him forward by the apron strings, and melded into him. No longer did he worry about some outlandish revenge-scheme, rather Akira just went blank as his lover indulged. Goro took the lead for once and Akira found it easy to ride the sensual flow. He could feel deft hands sneak underneath his apron and fumble with his belt buckle.

Goro withdrew and his face told Akira all. His eyes were soft, and he panted a bit. A silent request for permission, Goro wanted to go further.

Akira's checked his surroundings, and seeing nobody approaching, he nodded. "Please, Goro. I want it." He groaned as he cocked his head backwards and clenched his eyes shut.

"With pleasure, love." Goro slid the belt out and tugged on the elastic band of Akira's boxer briefs.

The cold air made Akira hiss. "Fuck... Goro do it!"

Akira was prepared for several things. A light, teasing hand stroking his cock, or maybe Goro's talented mouth sucking on it. Heck maybe Goro would finally indulge in Akira's fantasy and frot against him. Akira had always found that mental image of their cocks rubbing together far too exciting.

The mind-numbing, blood-stopping cold was very much not expected.

Akira couldn't really say it felt like he was screaming. The shriek was so loud, so alien to him that it sounded like someone else entirely. He could faintly admit that he tried to convey some meaning, some pleading for explanation with these slurs of foreign gibberish. 

”NNngh...WHYWHYCOLDCoLDC0LDGOR0GOrogor0??!!“

"I think that should be plenty." Goro gave a short giggle, before slapping the elastic band against Akira's waist, trapping the contents inside his briefs.

Akira flew off of his lover, as if the wall opposite him had magnetized the barista. He had no idea what thick, viscous fluid was sloshing around in his underwear but he wanted this day to end already. 

He hunched over and wheezed, finding it difficult to regain any coherent thought. He rocked back and forth and begged for help. As he saw his lower half, he groaned. He was absolutely soaked, his jeans and underwear would need at least two runs through the washer.

His self pitying was interrupted by another of his pathetic shrieks. The coldness came in waves and Akira kept getting thrashed by it.

Apparently Goro found it hilarious, because he was _snorting_. Something Akira had never seen the detective prince do before.

"Custard." Goro explained as he dripped the remainder of the carton onto Akira's hair. It ruined the casual styling, and ran down the lens of Akira's fashion glasses. Akechi couldn't stop the vindictive delight that ran through him. His lover whimpered as he spotted a second carton. 

Akechi's stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. He held Akira in place with one hand and popped the second one open. "Thick, ice-cold delights. It's actually quite delicious."

"Please! That's enough!" Akira trembled and begged even though he had a sneaking suspicion nothing could stop his boyfriend. 

"Nope." Akechi replied, emphasizing the 'p'. "You said to pay you back two-fold, love."

The full carton loomed over his head and if this were a movie Akira was certain an ominous track would be playing. 

Akira played his trump card. “Waitwaitwait! I’ll make you pancakes tomorrow, just _don’t do this_.

Akechi stopped and hummed, considering it. 

”I appreciate the offer but you overcooked them last time. Enjoy your just desserts.”

Akira whined. It was worth a shot.

Unceremoniously, Akechi dumped it all on the raven's head. It was a deluge so thick and relentless, that it muffled Akira's sobs for mercy. Which was a shame, because Goro found his lover's whimpering to be pure music. Still, he took delight in knowing that underneath that thick flowing stream of custard, Akira felt just as helpless and humiliated as he had earlier that morning.

Eventually, like any bounty, the liquid gold dried up. Akechi released the paper carton. It bounced off Akira's soaking head and landed on the ground.

His lover fell to his knees and groaned, not sure if he could ever be clean again. 

Goro cackled and stretched his arms languidly. "So. How was that for vengeance honey?"

Akira popped his drenched glasses off, and dredged some of the dessert off with his hand. It landed on the ground with audible squelches.

He shot Goro a teasing glare. "Well, it was extra and diabolical. Just like you."

Goro grinned. His voice smug and proud. "Nothing wrong with playing to win, _Joker_."

Akira smiled, looking a bit silly as the remaining custard in his hair started to drip onto his eyes. He lapped up a bit with his tongue and giggled. “Yep, you’ve won babe. And I’m sure victory tastes sweet.”

He tossed a bit of spice into his words, trying to sound seductive. "Well, just look at how _messy_ you've made me. Why don't you come here and clean me up, _Crow_?"

Goro strutted over and cupped Akira’s groin, making him squeak alongside the sloppy sound of cushioning custard as he squeezed the tent, which pillowed out from all the custard, like a stress ball. "Oh, don't worry babe. I've come prepared."

Akira leaned forward, liking where this was going. But he nearly fell, because Goro turned tail and sprinted away.

On the concrete ground, evil and wrong, it stood.

A single, small, square napkin. The kind that came with an order of Leblanc coffee. The kind that wasn’t enough to sop up a splash of coffee, much less the bucketloads of slimey, sticky mess that coated his entire body.

With shaking hands, Akira plucked it and noticed the note written on it.

_'Happy Valentines, Joker. Use this to clean yourself up.'_

Beneath that Goro had doodled their Metaverse masks and written a bunch of X’s and O’s.

He stomped towards the bathhouse, leaving a trail of sweet custard on the street, and not giving a single shit how many curious looks were tossed his way.

Fuck that pancake-loving, piece of shit, Detective daddy-issues. Akira should have just bought him a cheap box of chocolates from the drugstore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He never saw the dry-cleaning bill coming

**Author's Note:**

> Akira never saw it coming.


End file.
